The Carrero Heart - Beginning (Friends to Lovers)

The truth is they all soon drop off my radar when they realize feisty girl about town Sophie, does not put out. Ever.

I look the part, blonde and blue-eyed with a slim curvy body and a dress sense that’s sexual because I’m obsessed with clothes and shoes. I love to be both daring and bold and love to use my body to showcase the season’s sexy trends. I don’t have body issues anymore, any lack of self-esteem or confidence concerning how I look. Therapy made sure of that, the best my family could get me, and the support from my family, Emma, and Arry. No vulgar thoughts when I see how I have grown into a woman’s figure, and I can pull off the outward confidence like any girl around.

I have no problem attracting men of all sorts, but I just want one decent guy, someone like him: My Arry. Someone to take care of me and understand that sex isn’t everything between us. That without it I’m still worthwhile. Someone to see beyond the outer shell and treat me like I matter. Someone who doesn’t see a meal ticket or a quick fuck, or who isn’t abhorred by the past and all the dirty little things that asshole did to me.

I sigh heavily, head overcrowded with thoughts and feelings and I know I’m just running my mind ragged, pushing myself into anxiety, making myself depressed and more exhausted. I lean back and rest my head against the padded seat back; the thumping noise and smoky atmosphere are grating on me, even this drunk. I just want to go home, for Arrick to find me soon and take me anywhere but here.

I close my eyes to block it all out, stay sitting up so I’m less of an obvious target and start counting down the minutes till he gets here.

I am so done with this scene, this life, and it’s never ending bullshit.

is party, drink, and have fun. If I can even call it that anymore! It’s been losing its sparkle for weeks. After the first burst of independence wore off; and sitting here for the millionth time alone, tear-stained, and exhausted, I wonder why I ever hungered after this

ever thought shallow friends and meaningless relationships were worth more than genuine love from my family. The emptiness inside of me, which pushed me down this path, is still very much there, growing wider by the month and sucking me inwards like a black hole with

coloring in doodles of shoes in every lesson. My head on getting out and going to max my credit card on whatever hit the boutiques that week, daydreaming over the outfit I wanted to try out when I got home. Besides spending money on clothes, the

they dismiss something I have a passion for, and even though I have never sought their approval with very much of anything, it made me rip up the brochures I collected concerning fashion schools in the city. I threw them away with

tone pours over me hotly as the stench of alcohol breath runs down my cheek. Repulsion and mistrust stir within. Opening one eye, I catch an up close and personal view of a guy in his late twenties, leaning in invasively. His hand comes to rest on my naked thigh, just below my vintage styled denim skirt. My skin crawls

it works, and when he shows up, he plays the part effortlessly, always intervening no matter what he walks into and takes me away from it all. He has that scary look of a guy who will beat you to within an inch of your life, gorgeous enough to be plausible as my lover, despite the fact I know he keeps his right hook for the training ring normally, and is a pussycat outside of it most of the time. He doesn’t ever brawl in

body cringing, and hooks his arm around the back of the seat over my head to angle in on

and my body rigid. Everything inside of me flashing into instant red alert mode

and I cross my legs protectively. Used to sleazy men trying it on in the past couple of years, aggravated that they always seek me out, no matter

rate, becoming more aware because I’m completely uptight. I try to edge further away, but the booth comes to an end at a low wall beside me and means I cannot get any more distance between us. He is all but hemming me in behind the tiny circular table. My temper starts to rise with the claustrophobia, the slow build of nervous anticipation that something is going to escalate, and all my little bells start